Due South Snippets
by IchthusFish
Summary: Collection of short stories written in response to prompts on ds snippets LiveJournal. T rated for a couple of stories. Most stories will be rated Kplus.
1. Death By Chocolate

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Pairing: Gen - Fraser and RayK  
Rating: K+  
Length: 295  
Prompt: blond, Italian, piercing, orbs, turgid, lave, tumescence, glistening, velvety, member.

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**Death By Chocolate**

"Now that's what I'm talking about..." Ray held up a chocolate for inspection as they left the little store. "A perfect sphere. Wonderfully velvety texture," he popped the confection into his mouth, and continued speaking around it. "Made right here on the premises. Can't get fresher than that."

The piercing scream that cut though the air almost made him choke on his prized chocolate. Fraser was ahead of him re-entering the store, and by the time Ray entered the back room, his gun drawn, Fraser was having a rapid conversation in what sounded like Italian with a blond staff member in chocolate stained overalls.

"She says she was cleaning the machinery," Fraser translated, "and was just about to lave the mixer, when she noticed a strange tumescence rising and falling in the chocolate..."

"Tumescence?"

"Yes Ray, it means a slight swelling..."

"I knew that! Who says tumescence any more?"

"Well I do Ray." Fraser started to climb up onto the walkways above the giant vat that took up most of the small space.

Ray shrugged, and popped another one of the perfect orbs into his mouth, closing his eyes, and enjoying the luxury of a chocolate moment.

"Oh dear."

Ray opened his eyes lazily, to see Fraser leaning into the vat at a rather precarious angle.

"What have you got Frase?" he managed around his mouthful of chocolate.

"Well judging by the rather turgid nature of his attire, and his identification... I'd say this could be the manager Ray."

Ray froze in mid chew, face contorting into a grimace as his eyes opened wider in shock. He looked in disgust at the 20 bag of exclusive chocolates in his hand, carefully twisted wrappers glistening back at him in mockery, before dropping them into the trash.

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	2. Christmas At Vecchio's

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Pairing: Gen - Ray, Vecchio family  
Rating: K+  
Length: 299  
Prompt: spout, sprout, Zorro, honey, _I stayed awake for hours again last night, Searching for a reason to keep up the fight. I've made choices I don't regret. I've got problems I don't get._ (Great Big Sea, "Buying Time")

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**Christmas At Vecchio's**

By the time they've finished gouging themselves on the multiple courses of the Christmas feast, including the mandatory, but inadvisable, large quantities of sprouts, two things have happened; Maria's irritation at Tony's unceasing spouting of bad Christmas cracker jokes has finally boiled over into yet another argument; and Ray's annoyance at Fraser turning down his invitation to join the family festivities has reached dramatic levels.

Fraser is off being good and dutiful somewhere. "Helping people," he calls it. Ray calls it "interfering."

And besides, what about helping Ray? He was being abandoned to his fate here! The Mountie was good back-up in these situations.

The chaos follows him through into the sitting room, and Ray slumps in a chair with a sigh, weary and suffering from a recent lack of sleep. Worries he can't quite identify or understand have been keeping him awake again, and it's a situation he could really do without.

His carefully cultivated façade of seasonal happiness, that has been steadily weakening throughout the dinner, crumbles quicker than the mixed fruit Pavlova as he unwraps three gifts of socks. One. After. The other. The ingrained sense of duty the kept Fraser from accepting the invitation suddenly seems almost enviable. It's a scary and unexpected thought.

He must be looking like a grumpy goose, because Francesca thumps him half-heartedly on the shoulder, with a slurred "Where's your Christmas spirit Ray?" She sounds like she's had a little too much of the Christmas spirit already, and it's about as much as Ray can take.

Snagging a generous portion of honeyed ham and some mince pies, he leaves them watching an old Zorro movie that's playing on TV, volume raised to drown out the argument, and heads out in search of Fraser. He'll try the 6th Street Shelter first.

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	3. Hope

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Spoilers: "You Must Remember This" / "Victoria's Secret"

Pairing: Fraser / Victoria  
Rating: K+  
Length: 299  
Prompt: pastel, Pavlov, smart, trying, _If you were the winter, I know I'd be the snow. Just as long as you are with me, let the cold winds blow._ - Barry Louis Polisar, "All I Want Is You"

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**Hope**

Victoria's beautiful, and she knows it. But that doesn't matter out here. All of her looks, and street-smarts and savvy are about as much use as a book about Russian philosophers in this desolate wilderness. The pale blue sky that started this journey with her has long since been lost to an endless expanse of white, as the biting winds and driving snow do their best to destroy her utterly.

She huddles in the pitiful shelter of a mountain crag, shivering, and trying in vain to maintain her body heat. Thinking that maybe she has been wrong. That maybe even prison would be better than this. Better than the ignominious, painful, lonely death encroaching on her minute by minute. She feels herself slipping away, and wonders if anyone will find her body.

When she sees him, striding out of the white-out, one arm raised to shield his face, she thinks at first that he might be an angel. Then, as he sacrifices the protection of his coat to build a shelter around the both of them, she realises that he is a knight. Warmth seeps through to her as he lays his body on top of hers. He forces her to speak, not allowing her the silence, and through the endless hours or nothing but the sound of the wind and their own two voices, she feels them connect in a way she has never felt before. Not the usual tenuous, mindless love of a man who would do anything she asked of him. This is somehow deeper. The passionate, eternal connection of the last two people on Earth.

And as she lies there on the precipice between life and death, reciting the only poem she knows, with her fingers held warm in Benton's mouth, it gives her hope.

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	4. Healing

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Spoilers: "Victoria's Secret" / "Letting Go"

Pairing: Fraser / Victoria, Ray  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: fault, passage, mourning, bury, door

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**Healing**

"Come with me Ben."

She'd stood in the trains doorway, seconds from leaving his life forever. Raw emotions that had been chipping away at his carefully constructed self-control for days finally broke through the final barriers, and he'd known he was lost.

Stripped of his defences, he'd felt everything - the weight of the gun in his hand that they'd both known he could never use; feelings that the passage of time hadn't dulled, no matter how deeply and meticulously he'd tried to bury them; deep love that he still felt for her, even after everything she'd done. Emotions magnified to the point of near physical pain.

"Come _with _me."

Emotion had warred with duty as the mask crumpled. But the mask had _been _duty, and there'd been nothing left to save it. Craving a volatile, crazy love as he'd felt himself begin to self destruct. He'd ran to her...

Now, lying in a hospital bed, with a bullet in his back as a permanent reminder of his folly, Fraser has had endless hours to think. He's dealt with the grief for a love once again lost, building a fresh wall around his feelings piece by piece. Is dealing with the guilt that Ray still feels, despite his reassurances that his friend is blameless. Fraser will never admit to anyone his gladness that Ray's shot did not hit Victoria.

Shame alone is left to deal with. Shame that Ray saw him without his mask. That he'd let his friend down so very badly. He knows he must confess it, before it brings about his self destruction anyway, after Ray has done so much to save him from himself.

"I was going with her," he says softy.

"Yeah, I know." Ray's smile is his forgiveness.

With that, the bond is healed.

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	5. For The Journey

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Notes: Set after "Call Of The Wild"

Pairing: Gen - Fraser, RayK & Diefenbaker  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: fault, passage, mourning, bury, door

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**For The Journey**

Two weeks into their adventure, Fraser has seen a dramatic change in Ray. His once insecure friend is now happier and more confident. Embracing this right of passage, and learning with speedy enthusiasm which faults in the landscape risk sending an avalanche down to bury them, or leave them crashing into the untold depths below. Fraser watches him settle the dogs in for the night, as he prepares the small hare that marks Ray's first successful hunt, with a good measure of pride in his progress.

Diefenbaker trots over and settles himself by the fire. The change in him has been slower, more subtle, but no less there. Each day he leads the way with exuberance, exhilarated by the freedom of the wilderness. Keeping his new-found pack-mates in line as top dog, but still preferring the company of his human companions, and the warmth of their fire. And he still whines with irritating regularity about the lack of Hotdogs and Jelly Donuts.

For Fraser the journey has brought mixed emotions. He's home. This land knows him almost as well as he know it. But he carries with him a re-awakened grief for his parents, and the irony that in all the extra time with his father, he still never said everything he needed to say. It's time to let go.

As the sun sets, and the last of the herbal tea warms his fingers from within its tin mug, Benton Fraser says a silent, loving goodbye to his mum and dad. A door slides closed on that part of his life; on the consulate; on Chicago. It's a bitter-sweet moment, that brings with it a sense of freedom. A joy at being home which had been masked by emotion. And he relishes the dawn, and what the journey will bring.

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	6. Not Fraser

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Spoilers: "The Deal"

Pairing: Francesca  
Rating: T  
Length: 246  
Prompt: cleavage, neck, sand, seawater, ribbon

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**Not Fraser**

The leather bodice still hangs in her closet.

It has pride of place in its own little area, positioned so she can see it each time she opens the door. Francesca runs her fingers down it, relishing the feel, and the scent it still carries. Smiling at the memories and feelings it evokes in her. Allowing herself to be caught up in the warmth of nostalgia for just a moment.

She sighs. With a hint of sadness, she chooses another outfit from the rail, and consigns the leather bodice to the darkness of the enclosed space once more. She will never wear it again.

It was made for him.

And that one night where it was all that was between them... well... that will just remain between them. And no-one else will have a share of that experience. Ever.

Tonight's bodice is made of chiffon, and laced with ribbon, with a plunging neckline that shows off her cleavage very nicely. She finishes off fixing her make-up, and casts one last, telling glance, towards the closed closet door as the front doorbell rings.

And the sandy haired guy who picks her up will try very hard, and do all the right things. Take her for a drink, and a dance, and dine her at the expensive restaurant that always smells of the sea, because of the seawater they ship in to hold their _really _fresh fish. But he won't really stand a chance.

He's just not Fraser.

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	7. WellTuned Love

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Spoilers: multi-episodes, all seasons

Notes: Set after the end of "Call Of The Wild"

Pairing: Gen - RayV  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: beginning, end, roller coaster,  
What it was that drove me here  
Well, a fifth of it was nerve  
(Headstones, "Losing Control")

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**Well-Tuned Love**

It was love at first sight.

She wasn't much to look at. She'd seen better days. A bit shabby around the edges maybe. A lesser man might have passed her by. But Ray could see her potential.

Dark Green, 1971 Buick Riviera. All original features. A classic.

It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Angie had never understood it, and their marriage had come to an end almost before Ray had noticed. But the Riv had been a steadfast constant. He'd brought her back to life. He'd made her sing.

She'd handled all of the seat of the pants driving his job often required. Not quit on him despite the occasional scumbag shooting her windows. Even survived the arrival of the Mountie and the wolf. She'd survived everything he'd thrown at her.

And how had he repaid her?

By sacrificing her to save Ian MacDonald's sorry hide.

It broke his heart.

The second Riv hadn't enjoyed a long life span. Dying with Louis Gardino from a car bomb meant for him. The incident almost caused him to self destruct, and tested his friendship with Fraser to its limits.

He'd got Riv number three for a song, and not spent anywhere near enough time with her before he'd been sent undercover. The limo had been very nice, sure, but it wasn't the Riv. Then Fraser cracked that can of worms right open with two words.

It'd been a roller-coaster few days. He's been shot, fallen in love, discovered his cover was a man who couldn't pass as him in a million years, his sister's working for the cops, and Fraser's back in Canada for good. He could _really _use a dose of normality right now.

"Hey Frannie, where's my car?"

"At the bottom of Lake Michigan," wasn't his preferred response.

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	8. Madness At The Madhouse

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Pairing: Gen - RayV and Fraser  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: bears, raspberry, pickle, spatula, Paris

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**Madness At The Madhouse**

Ray grinned once more at the "complementary" stuffed bear the girl at the gate window had insisted on "autographing" for him, pocketing it before accepting his fully loaded hotdog from the vendor.

"Now this... This is real American food."

He took a satisfying bite from his meal as they entered the arena.

"The Bulls are so gonna trash the Knicks today."

"Well that doesn't sound very sporting Ray."

Ray gave his companion a look of exasperation. "It's Basketball Benny. How much more sport do you want?"

The youth who crashed into Ray spared him from Fraser's impending clarification, though being sprawled on the ground, covered in sweet pickle relish, fried onions and a heap of loose change wasn't exactly much improvement. The youth cursed, abandoning his ill gotten gains to sprint off down the concourse, as an out of shape man in an "I Love Paris" apron staggered up, wielding a spatula.

"Ah, permettez-moi," said Fraser, carefully handing his Styrofoam cup of raspberry tea to the bewildered vendor, before setting off after the miscreant, closely followed by a fuming Ray.

The game didn't wait for them. Madhouse's commentator was soon providing an accompaniment to the chase, much to Ray's chagrin...

_"Oh my word! He's really going for it! I... I can't quite describe what is happening on the court at this moment..."_

"Try!" screamed Ray.

The crowd's cheering reverberated through the building as Fraser overtook his quarry.

"Excuse me, I believe you have something which doesn't belong to you..."

Ray rolled his eyes, and pulled out his gun and cuffs.

"You're under arrest, for robbery, resisting arrest, and ruining an Armani suit."

"Ray!" exclaimed Fraser, shocked.

_"Well that was quite sensational play. Amazing weaving... Incredible lay-up... I really pity anyone who missed that!"_

Ray just hung his head and groaned.

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	9. Cold Soup

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Notes: Set sometime after "Call Of The Wild", because I couldn't imagine them staying out of trouble forever.

Pairing: Gen - Fraser, Dief and RayK  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: soup, garden, counter, library, heat wave

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**Cold Soup**

"How did we get into this soup?" Ray grumbled.

Fraser looked around, almost as if he was expecting to find them surrounded by the viscous liquid. The gaze he returned to Ray was one of marked confusion.

"We don't appear to be in any sort of food source Ray."

Dief looked to his companion expectantly, alerted to the promise of sustenance. Ray just groaned. Amazing how he could _hear _"food", but not a bad guy with a rocket launcher.

"In the soup," Ray exclaimed, waving his arms for emphasis. "As in, messed up. Things not gone to your perfectly foolproof plan..."

"Ah," said Fraser, enlightenment dawning.

"Again," Ray muttered under his breath, not quite quietly enough.

"Well now I hardly think that's fair Ray." He started to continue down the snowbound road. Or at least he hoped it was a road. It was really rather hard to tell. "I certainly don't recall ever being in this specific situation with you before. And I thought our countermeasure's worked rather well. We're still alive, and we know their plan."

"We're in the middle of nowhere with no supplies!" Ray exploded. "We'll be lucky if we get to tell anybody what their plan is before we _Freeze To Death_!"

"Now there's no need to be so melodramatic. The Inuit have survived up here for generations. And it's a good three degrees warmer than usual. We're actually experiencing something of a heatwave." He rubbed an eyebrow absently. "In fact, I remember one particularly harsh winter after my grandmother had moved her library Ulukhaktok. It had small garden area that the community used for..."

Ray tuned him out, searching the endless white around them for a passing truck, or dog sled... or maybe a magical portal to Santa Barbara, he didn't really mind which.

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	10. Patience, It's A Human Thing

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Notes: Early season one, before Dief gets his wolf licence.

Pairing: Gen - Dief & Fraser  
Rating: K+  
Length: 298  
Prompt: gloves, turtle, day

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**Patience, It's A Human Thing**

Fraser is talking, which he often does, but right now he's lecturing, which is just downright annoying. Dief lets out an involuntary yawn. His pack-mate's attention snaps fully back to him immediately. Good hearing, for a human.

"Are you listening to me?"

Dief barks his assent. _Yep, turtle, hare, patience wins the day. Got that._

Fraser gives him a dubious look, so Dief returns it with his most practised, innocent, 'would I lie to you' look. The one that works on every other human in the Yukon and the Greater Chicago area. The one that always makes Fraser's lips narrow in suspicion. Kind of like now.

But right now, Fraser doesn't have time to worry about it, and Dief knows it. The Mountie returns his attention to finishing up his morning routine... And finishing up his lecture.

"Now it won't be long..."

Dief interrupts him with a disbelieving whine.

"All right," amends Fraser, with a long suffering sigh. "I'm sure it won't be _very _long." He grabs his gloves and checks his appearance in the small mirror. "Until then you'll just have to be patient."

Fraser stops on the way to the door, and gives his companion another thoughtful look, so Dief makes a deliberate show of settling down with his head rested on his paws. _See, I'm fine. I don't need a baby sitter_.

It's enough. With a small smile and a nod Fraser finally decides to leave. Dief gives him a few more moments, just long enough to make sure his pack-mate isn't coming back.

Patience, it's a human thing. Fortunately, wolves have far more practical ways of spending their time. He makes quick work of the flimsy window latch and descending the fire escape below, before loping off down the alley in search of Jelly Donuts.

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	11. Diplomacy

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Pairing: Gen - Thatcher & Fraser  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: bears, raspberry, pickle, spatula, Paris

**

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**

Diplomacy

Meg Thatcher appreciated a good diplomatic event. Robust debate and negotiation, in moderation, was good for the soul. Unfortunately, this was nothing like a good diplomatic event. The International Police Forces Conference in Paris seemed to be more of an excuse for people to drink too much in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. A couple of the representatives were already definitively pickled, having had more than just the one too many intoxicating beverages.

That irritation would have been bad enough to deal with, but then Fraser had compounded her annoyance by declaring to everyone within hearing range that the "Polar Bear Burgers" didn't actually contain any of the animal in question. When she'd pressed him on the matter, he'd informed her that he'd ascertained this by means of a portable testing kit he carried in his belt pouch, having become concerned they might contain some of the ursine's liver, following on with an explanation as to the effects of consuming Polar Bear liver would have on the unsuspecting human being. A clear area had formed around them with remarkable speed.

By the time he was through with his excruciatingly detailed report, a headache had thumbed it's way up behind her eyes. She had diligently decided to ignore it, with only partial success. Then the man flipping the offending burgers had started giving her the kind of leering look that made her want to beat him to death with his own spatula, and Thatcher finally had a useful job for her Constable to do.

Now she was watching surreptitiously from across the veranda, expertly eating a raspberry crepe without it making a single mark on her uniform, as Fraser explained the finer points of etiquette and diplomacy and appropriate behaviour to the beleaguered chef.

Revenge, she decided, was definitely sweet.

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	12. Stage Combat

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Pairing: Gen - Fraser, Fraser Sn, Dief & RayV  
Rating: T  
Warnings: Reference to use of a knife  
Length: 300  
Prompt: wait, weight, post, welt, advice

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**Stage Combat**

Conciousness returned slowly, and disconcertingly painfully. It felt like he'd been hit by a bus. Fraser methodically catalogued his injuries. Numerous contusions. A shallow gash where a blade had scored his ribs. Nothing serious. Cracking open the one eye that cooperated, he found himself surrounded by several large sandbags.

"Ah..."

The theatre was a wreck, littered with broken scenery that had crashed to the floor when their support structure had been forced loose. A post had pierced the stage nearby. Two of his attackers lay unconscious amongst the debris. Peretti had sacrificed his own people to escape.

"He's getting away son. What are you waiting for?"

"I need to take care of these men."

Collecting the knife that had so recently been used on him, he staggered across to cut a wide swathe from the stage curtain.

"They're not going anywhere. Mounties always get their man! Can't let the side down now."

Fraser shook his head, causing the room to spin alarmingly. He mentally added concussion to his list of injuries.

"This structure is unsafe."

High above, the precariously dangling platform creaked loudly and jolted a few feet lower.

"Oh... I'd give you a hand, but..."

Fraser ignored him, concentrating on relocating the downed felons onto the curtain patch, before binding the cloth with ropes from the fallen sandbags. Exhausted, he dragged his heavy burden towards the doors.

"Piece of advice son. Never underestimate the tenderness of wolves."

Fraser looked back, confused, but his father was no longer there. He pushed out into the lobby, finding a self-satisfied Diefenbaker and a hysterical Peretti, thigh bleeding from a familiar bite pattern, just as Ray burst through the outer doors, and a loud crash behind him threw up a thick cloud of dust.

"Benny! Are you okay?"

Fraser laughed and blacked out.

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	13. Thrill Of The Chase

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Pairing: Gen - Dief & Fraser  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: scent, shed, quarry, feral, domestic

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**Thrill Of The Chase**

Dief races down the highway, paws barely touching the asphalt. He'd picked up the scent a block away, and followed it for another two before he got visual contact. There's no way he's losing it now.

He spares a glance back at his companion. A red shape pounding down the road half a block back, making a valiant attempt to keep pace. Dief gives him a bark of encouragement.

_Hurry up! He's getting away!_

Fraser's been concerned that he was becoming too soft and domesticated. But Dief hasn't shed all of his feral tendencies. He can still hunt... when he feels like it.

His quarry is turning onto the drive of a suburban semi. Dief puts his head down and runs harder. _Got to catch him_. He's going so fast he can barely stop in time to avoid slamming into the man exiting the car. The response is an undignified yelp, followed by a sigh of relief.

"Hello buddy, didn't see you there."

He ruffles the wolf's fur, and Dief rewards him with a lupine grin. The man chuckles, and flips open the lid of the cart he's towing, stuffing the remains of the days trade into a paper bag, as Fraser catches up with them, scent changing from confusion to annoyance.

"There you go buddy." He holds out the bag so Dief can take it in his jaw. It smells good.

Dief trots happily up to Fraser, gracing him with an innocent look.

_What?_

It's not working. The muscles in Fraser's jaw are twitching and he's working himself into major lecture mode, scent dangerously close to shifting from annoyance into anger. It doesn't go there very often. Time for an offensive defence. Dief matches his pack-mate's glare with one of his own.

_You're spoiling the smell of my donuts!_

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	14. Putting The Boom Into Boomerang

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Notes: As referred to in "Chicago Holiday". A goldmine, a boomerang and a tank full of gasoline... What could go wrong?

Pairing: Gen - Fraser (prequel)  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: scent, shed, quarry

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**Putting The _Boom _Into Boomerang**

Strictly speaking, the old Quanark Goldmine wasn't _exactly _where Benton was supposed to be. His grandmother would have his hide if she knew. But the facility wasn't in use, and the location was perfect for acquiring some new boomerang skills... What could possibly go wrong?

He set his dinner cooking on a small fire in a sheltered lee, before starting on his practice. His first attempt hit the mine face with a _clunk_, skittering loose several small chunks of rock. His second try almost took his ear off, boomerang landing roughly on the slope behind him. He retrieved it thoughtfully. Perhaps some altitude would help matters.

Several minutes climbing took him almost to the top, where the slope steepened abruptly. This time the boomerang looped in a graceful arc to the left, dropping slightly, following the curve of the land. Sweeping around... just a little too close. The hit produced a visible gouge.

Benton never saw the rest of its flight. He watched in horrified fascination, as the land moved; first sliding, then tumbling, until it slammed into the supports of a large tank, knocking it free. The tank split on impact with the ground, releasing the unmistakable smell of gasoline, before continuing down the slope, rolling and sloshing fuel in all directions, heading towards the lee and his things and his...

Fire!!

The ignition was spectacular. The tank took off like an ungainly rocket. Benton felt his skin prickling and stinging with the heat. A small, curved object flew clear of the inferno, approaching with a familiar _whura-whura_ sound.

He caught the scorched boomerang instinctively, brain screaming at him to run, even as his legs refused; staring mesmerised at the unstoppable river of fire flowing towards a metal shed adorned with the sign - **Danger! High Explosive!**

"Oh dear."

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	15. Scorch Marks

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Notes: Sequel to Putting The _Boom _Into Boomerang.

Pairing: Gen - Fraser Sn (prequel)  
Rating: K+  
Length: 300  
Prompt: scent, shed, quarry

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**Scorch Marks**

It didn't take him long to figure it out.

The knife was the catalyst. Found in the midst of twisted pieces of metal that could have been buckles from a pack; near the neat, small circle of stones that had obviously been someone's fire, and a melted piece of slag that might once have been a bevy-can; within sight of the impromptu fire-pit where the goldmine's explosives store had once stood.

It's blade was bubbled and warped; handle and sheaf burned away; but the inscription was still barely visible. It was the one he'd given Benton for his sixteenth birthday.

Bob's world was shaken enough to almost knock him from his feet, as the revelation stole the breath from his lungs and the beating from the heart in his chest. He forced himself to look again.

A camp, but no sign of... remains.

Unwilling to trust his sight, he closed his eyes and allowed his keen sense of smell to double check. A faint tang of gasoline hung in the air, along with smoke and the smell of incinerated land. But there was an absence of the horrible, tell-tale scent that would indicate someone had perished here.

His eyes snapped open with a mixture of relief and determination, scouring the area until they found the trail up the none too gentle slope. Their owner followed it without preamble. Near the top he found the damaged boomerang, and the last pieces of the puzzle slipped into place.

The boomerang had been through the flames, but his son had not. The trail up the slope thus far had been planned, unhurried; the continuation a frantic scramble.

Bob followed until the trail diverged. One clear, but too heavy. The other hastily covered. With a grim smile, he tracked his errant son due South.

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	16. The Grey Wolf

Disclaimer: I don't own Due South in any way, shape or form. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun. I think that fanfic is a good way to explore what happens in between, and as a result of, the episodes. So, on with the exploration.

Spoilers: General, multiple episodes

Pairing: Gen - Dief & Fraser (distant future)  
Rating: T  
Warning: Deathfic  
Length: 300  
Prompt: scent

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**The Grey Wolf**

Dief lies contented in the warmth of the cabin. Fraser's scent is watchfulness, even as he makes a pretence of reading, trying to mask the heaviness in his heart from the one he has never been able to fool.

The scent never lies, and Dief knows his pack-mate's well.

He's known it as compassion; as perseverance and determination. The times in the presence of the father, he'd known both scents as acquiescence, but never truly _pack_.

With the father's death, he'd known Fraser's scent as disbelief, confusion, anger and pain; and finally, as justice.

In exile, it had often been trust; occasionally friendship; perplexion and sometimes irritation at the father's return; nervousness and vulnerability around females... Until the day _she_ had walking into his life again, and his pack-mate's scent had spoken of surprise, passion and the desire to mate.

Dief had been glad; right up to the moment her scent had revealed deception, and the blinding white pain of a bullet had changed Fraser's scent to guilt; and later to heartbreak and desolation.

But they had endured. Had eventually returned home with the scent of great elation. And had never again left.

Dief raises his head and meets his companion's eyes. Darkness is encroaching, even though it doesn't smell of night, and he's aware that his own scent is fading with the light. A heartbeat of blackness. A second... and there stands the valley of the Grey Wolf.

The Grey Wolf has no scent, but when he calls, Dief can _hear _him. New life begins to flood his old bones. With a final, sighing breath, he follows.

The book falls to the floor, forgotten, as his pack-mate moves to crouch beside him, running his fingers though his old friend's fur. His scent is grief, but Dief no longer knows.

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